Invisible
by AC Mathur 'teh Chibi Dudette
Summary: Things in young Percy Weasley's life have led him to wish to be invisible. Let's take a look at his side of the story. (Warning, contains suicide)


Disclaimer: I, sadly enough, do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Harry would've made a move on Hermione in the third book and Ron would have a brain.

**Invisible**

I sat in the Gryffindor Common Room; trying to get away from my younger brothers. Honest to God, they're sickening. Everytime I see them, I want to disappear. To fade away; just die on the spot.

To become invisible.

I'm Percy Ignatius (how I loath that name) Weasley. Otherwise acknowledged as Perfect Prefect Percy. (And once Fred and George elaborated further. For a whole week I was stuck being _Perfect Pansy Prefect Prat Percy) _Yeah, _perfect_. I'm a Prefect and it's supposedly _perfect_. That's what most think I am. A perfectionist. Yeah right. I want what any decent person would want. Everything I do – every step I take – every amount of oxygen I intake – it's to make my family proud.

_Percy was 9. He was sat at the dinner table, enchanted by the stories Bill and Charlie told of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. He'd seen a badge on Bill. It clearly read – in shiny bold letters – _Prefect_. And he accidentally misread it, and thought it was _perfect_. Ever since he'd seen it there, his one ambition was to earn a badge just like that one._

_It wasn't the _Prefect_ privileges he was after. It was the pride that young Percy was after. The pride of being able to just walk into a room with shiny badge on his chest – and see his parents' faces beaming up brightly at him._ Which I never got.

Everything I've ever done has been done before – and some I haven't done.

Bill's been a Prefect and Head Boy. I'm a Prefect, but do I receive the same doting from my parents? No. Do people respect me? No.

My mother used to tell me when I was younger that because of who I am, I can do anything I want. Become Minister of Magic, the greatest sorcerer in the world – _anything_ I desired. Unfortunately, she decided not to mention that _no one _actually _cares_. No-one cares how high your grades are, how shiny your badge-that-you-worked-so-hard-for is or how polite you are. It's just money, looks or popularity.

None of which I have.

Fred and George were disruptive and against the rules – where'd it get them? The centre of attention.

Ron was reckless and didn't try hard enough. He kept getting into danger with Mr. Potter. Where'd he end up?

Honoured in the school forever.

I try hard. I work hard. I earn hard, and all I have to show for it is a pile of glistening badges, and eternal embarrassment and ridicule from my younger brothers.

_Percy was 10. He was running to his mother at an alarming speed – tears falling down his cheeks._

"_Mum! Mum! Mummy!" he cried out._

"_Why, whatever is the matter, dear?" his mother had answered._

"_Bill and Charlie and Fred and George! They – they said... they said..." Percy trailed off and sniffed._

"_What did they say, Percy?" his mother enquired._

"_Fred and George called me a pompous git – and – and... Bill and Charlie just laughed and said I was a big bore! I'm not, am I?" Percy wailed._

"_Of course you're not, dear. They're just jealous of you because you're much smarter, politer and nicer."_

_Percy sniffed._

"_Really?" he seemed happier._

"_Why, of course, dear."_

_Percy gave his mother a great big hug. "Thank you!"_

I rolled my eyes. Seriosuly, the thought of brothers like that holding a drop of jealously against me... Hell yeah, and Merlin's cat was green with pink polka dots... (for your information, Merlin's cat is a very small but cute ginger kitten) Bill and Charlie had gotten a lot more mature and didn't tease me anymore, yet Fred and George are completely intolerable. Unreasonable. Underachievers.

And everyone likes them.

"Yeah, and did you hear what he did a _week_ ago? Blew the woman's two legs off... I swear that guy's a caution..."

I groaned. Fred and George's friends were here – something that signalled Fred and George would soon be here. Or an apocalypse...

"Percy." A female voice called out to me.

I looked up; my face softening into a smile as I recognised the tones of dear...

"Penelope!" my face brightened, "What brings you here?" I tried staying casual.

"I get an education here, Einstein." Penelope smiled (we've both done Muggle Studies)

"Ah yeah, forgot that... so go on, what do you want to say?" I found himself going rd – Penelope always made him melt like butter.

"Nothing, just wanted to say _hi_."

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So long. That was so long ago. So long since I've smiled at her, so long since I've laughed with her, so long since I was happy.

Or visible.

My younger brothers used to look up to me. As they grew up, they confided in each other. It was sweet to see the trust grow between them. Yet it was like having my heart ripped out to see the feelings they shared towards me. My father has always been nagging me to0 join the Quidditch team – despite how clumsy I am. Actually, I'm not that bad at flying. I just had no interest whatsoever in Quidditch, and would rather focus myself on my studies.

My parents have never been proud of me. My mother continues with this warped little game where she pretends she's interested in my achievements – acting as though I'm an idiot. Tch, as if they can lie to me. I'm their _son_.

The red-haired outcast.

The way my brothers talk to me... they're outside my door now, I can hear them.

"Come in, Fred and George, you're heavy breathers and a deaf man could tell it's you."

The two trudged in. Taking their time, hoping it'll be a year before they have the delight of speaking to that _Perfect Pansy Prefect Prat Percy _brother of theirs. Watch now – you'll see what I mean.

_Percy was 14. He was trying to ask Stacy Rinlight to the dance in Hogsmeade._

"_Hell no, who'd want to go with a creep like you?!" She'd retorted._

_Percy started trembling again. He'd always been nervous around girls – especially hard-to-get ones. There was something he wanted to ask her, but couldn't bring himself up to it..._

"Mum says dinner's ready." Fred grunts.

_Do you hate me_?

"Dad says you've got to be there." George muttered; his voice suggesting he had an alternative.

_Do you?_

"Of course, if the great Prefect Percy is too busy, we will of course _more _than _understand_." Fred says; bowing ironically.

_Don't hate me, please_.

I glared_. 1... 2... 3... keep your tempter Perce, they're just your younger brothers..._

But something was welling up inside me – hatred so strong, so powerful, and so blunt... this wasn't sibling rivalry, this wasn't my brothers having a laugh... this was sheer dislike for the red-haired outcast. The invisible one. Me.

_Please don't hate me... I want to be liked_...

Before I knew it, I had shot up; a fiery expression matching my flaming red hair.

"Are you implying that I can't even leave my work to have a normal dinner with my family?!" I snapped in rage.

"Well dear brother Percival..." Fred put on an expression of mock thoughtfulness.

"I suppose that-"

"After a bit of consideration-"

"I suppose that-"

"Yes, we are."

I shook.

_Please don't hate me... I want to have friends. I want people to like me, I want to be your friend_...

"You know Perce, the weird and unWeasley thing about _you_ is that you'd prefer _not to be seen_." Fred starts up again.

"We're not talking about blending in with the crowd, _Ignatius_." I shook once more; fighting back to keep the ocean of tears in my throat. "It's like-"

I couldn't take it anymore.

"I KNOW WHAT'S IT LIKE, I'M NOT AN IDIOT! I KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!" Tears were now flowing freely; and I was doing nothing to stop them. "IT'S LIKE YOU CAN'T _SEE _ME, CAN'T _HEAR_ ME, IT'S LIKE I'M JUST **INVISIBLE**!"

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I remember a muggle book I once read. It was about committing suicide. There were some interesting parts in it. I'm sitting in a chair alone in my room right now. Here's a part of the book:

_Suicide is for the weak_, it said, _it is a method of running away from problems in life – and from life itself. It is mostly found with people that suffer a disorder known as schizophrenia._

I got up and picked up a knife. For a few minutes I admired the metallic gleam on it; glistening in the light; so inviting, so... so – so _visible_...

_Suicide is for those that consider their lives to be immensely unhappy_

I swear I'll crack if I have to go through another _day_ of Fred and George...

_Suicide_ _is a many-layered, complex thing_

They say you need a degree in Insanity to understand a word I say...

_People will usually start by cutting themselves_

I rolled up my sleeves; already knowing what I'd see. A collage of deeply engraved scars; still gleaming scarlet.

_Suicide is the product of sadness so deep_

I can't live like this anymore... I slashed the knife into my arm once more...

_Suicide is the worst choice a person can make..._

I'd made too many mistakes in my life...

_Suicide will leave such deep inner scars_...

No spell could remove the pain _inside_ Percy Ignatius Weasley...

With one last breath, I pointed my wand towards myself.

"_Avada Kedavra._" I whispered quietly.

A flash of green light – so beautifully blinding. And then silence. Silence.

Percy Weasley has left the world.

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Take it easy, I haven't written for a while.


End file.
